


Angel

by Mewkura



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Angels, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 09:51:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19354564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mewkura/pseuds/Mewkura
Summary: Yu-Gi-Oh Zexal | Foilshipping | In which Vector contemplates the existence of angels and comes to the conclusion that they don’t exist.





	Angel

Angels aren’t real.

—was Vector’s conclusion when he first heard of the creatures from the theology unit while he attended Heartland Academy.

The idea was absurd. Supernatural beings that guide and protect humans on the behalf of an all-knowing, all-powerful deity—large white wings, vaguely human, ethereal.

Of course, there were other depictions of angels as well, older, more intriguing depictions. Incomprehensible amalgamations of form and not form that incite fear within humans—but no one liked to associate angels with those horrific creatures, naturally. Except for Vector, an avid enthusiast of the macabre.

Sure, human religion is new to Vector in general. He only just recently infiltrated their world and learned to assimilate. Of course organisms as lowly and desperate as humans would need to cling to mythos to ease their fear of the unknown.

Even so, the concept of angels perplexed Vector. For what reason would God need angels? If He is all-powerful, why can’t He guide humans himself? Why the need for angels? If their living purpose is to serve Him, how do they stray, lose faith, and fall? The brief slideshow inexplicitly stuck with Vector like a sore on chapped lips.

 

“Yuuma-kun,” Shingetsu asked one day, “What do you think about angels?”

“Huh? Angels?” Yuuma looked up from the manga he was reading. “That’s kinda random. Why do you ask?”

“I was just thinking about that lesson in class the other day.”

“Oh, I slept through that class.” Yuuma laughed. “I have no idea.”

“Ah, I don’t mean from an educational standpoint—more like, in general.”

“Hm. Angels, huh.” Yuuma placed his manga down and leaned back.

“Well, I’m not really religious or anything, but I guess they’re good? I mean, that’s what they represent, right? The good in good versus evil.”

 _Good_. Morality—a concept unconsidered.

“Right, that makes sense. But I was kinda confused in class. Y’know, about the purpose of angels. I mean, God could do the same job they do, right? And probably faster, too.”

Yuuma stared at Shingetsu blankly, dumbfounded.

“Geez, I never thought of that. Shingetsu, you’re a lot smarter than you let on.”

“Ah, Yuuma-kun, you’re too kind,” Shingetsu shook his hand, dismissing the declaration, cheeks tinted pink.

“Well, I guess. I don’t really know. I don’t have the brain to process that kinda stuff.”

Shingetsu leaned his pouted face closer to Yuuma. “Yuuma-kun, don’t sell yourself short! After all, what are you? The World Duel Carnival Champion! You’re awesome!”

“Well, winning a duel monsters tournament doesn’t really make you book-smart…”

“It doesn’t make you duel-smart either, Yuuma,” piped Astral.

“Hey! How come you show up out of nowhere just to insult me?” Yuuma yelled at his partner.

Shingetsu stared unassumingly at Yuuma and the empty space he was yelling at.

“Anyway,” Yuuma diverted his attention back to Shingetsu, “I don’t usually think that deep about stuff like angels, but I see them as a symbol of hope. We say that our loved ones that died are now angels in heaven, so in a way, they’re closer to us because they’re more human than not. Maybe it’s just comforting to know they exist as angels.”

Vector sat in thought. Angels are deceased humans? The teacher hadn’t mentioned that at all. He spoke of creation and duty and hierarchies.

Morality. Humanity. _Hope_.

Vector stared at Yuuma, who went back to reading his manga, Astral reading over Yuuma’s shoulder.

He chucked the conversation into the back of his mind, lodged it into some crevasse he would return to later.

 

“I’m with the Barian Police,” Shingetsu said, low and assertive.

The confusion, fear, and excitement crashed through Yuuma’s facial features in titanic waves, unsteady, but oh so unyielding. Yet, the familiar glint of trust and intrigue stayed constant in his sparkling red, red eyes overflowing with determination and goodwill.

As a well-rehearsed speech poured out of Shingetsu’s mouth, natural as a waterfall, Vector’s mind strayed, still in awe, humor, and play pity of Yuuma’s devotion and naiveté.

Laughable, ridiculous drivel. Vector? An enforcer of law and order? A _guardian?_

An angel.

The thought occurred to him as he handed Yuuma the forged badge and he accidently grazed his hand against Yuuma’s from surprise.

Shingetsu looked at Yuuma, piercing through his warm expression, seeing only heartfelt gratitude and admiration, eyes brimming with hope.

If Vector was imitating the role of an angel, what did that make his subordinate?

 

_“Yuuma-kun!!”_

A hideous shriek of manic laughter pierced the suffocating, thick atmosphere of Sargasso.

Vector’s Barian form loomed over Yuuma’s trembling body, smearing the first stains of disillusionment into his fragile, fragile mind. Vector’s wings throbbed, satisfied with the taste of the young human’s delectably damaged sense of trust. His Barian claws and eyes tingled excitedly seeing the _fear_ in Yuuma’s wide, wide eyes.

Yuuma stared up at not-Shingetsu in dreadful fright. Even though he saw, watched in horror, as Shingetsu’s face morphed into the visage of a Barian, this monster, this _thing_ wasn’t Shingetsu. Shingetsu was smiles and comfort and warmth—Shingetsu was light. The winged beast in front of him wasn’t light. It was not even darkness. It was an unidentifiable, misshapen creature made of something so unfathomable to humanity that it would leave Yuuma marred with nightmares.

Unable to identify the entity in front of him, Yuuma questioned, “W-Who are you? Where’s Shingetsu?!”

The form let out a gargled, high-pitched noise that was supposed to be a laugh. “Are you that dumb? Has it not go to your head yet? I, Vector, was your precious Shingetsu this whole time.” It spoke in a voice that Yuuma could only describe as otherworldly.

Vector reveled in Yuuma’s terror, frozen by the implausible. Vector reveled in Yuuma’s disbelief, the refusal to accept his existence. Vector reveled in his own divinity.

He was fear. He was horror. He was ethereal. He was shadow. He was not real.

He was an angel.

 

_“Let’s go to hell together!! Die by my side, Yuuma!!”_

Vector screeched the command, nails digging into Yuuma’s hand as he threatened to drag them both into the vacuum of nothing. Perhaps he had not succeeded in bringing down Don Thousand, but at least he could succeed in killing Yuuma, the fact was the one solace that allowed him to laugh manically once more before death grasped him.

Vector’s laughter ceased when he saw Yuuma, gazing warmly at him with wet, wet eyes, blurring with fondness and trust.

“Yeah, let’s do it, Shingetsu,” Yuuma nodded, the glint of determination and goodwill in his pure, pure eyes a constant.

A tear splat against Vector’s face.

Vector was infuriated, perplexed, stunned beyond belief. This insufferable brat was willing to join him in hell, to be the last person by Vector’s side, to die with him, after all Vector had done.

Despite breaking him beyond repair, Yuuma was still good. He still had the will to befriend Vector, to support him, to _protect_ him in death. All on his own volition. It was impossible. It just didn’t make sense.

And in that moment, Vector realized. He had been wrong this whole time. Gazing back up into Yuuma’s good, good eyes, Vector imagined a pair of large, white wings resting upon Yuuma’s back. Yuuma wasn’t a lowly human. He wasn’t weak or naïve or scared. He was warmth, comfort, light—Yuuma was hope beyond.

Vector smiled. After all this contemplation of purpose and reason, the answer revealed itself earnestly plain, ridiculously simple, rendering his ideology stripped and flayed, making a naked fool of him. After declaring himself divine, Vector realized. It wasn’t him.

 “This is farewell…”

Yuuma’s unreal eyes widened in fear as he painfully gasped.

Vector let go.

“…Yuuma-kun.”

Was not real.

Yuuma-kun was an angel.

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I don't have any actual knowledge of theology or Christianity, so I hope this doesn't offend anyone.
> 
> This fic was basically inspired by a Tumblr post that pointed out that angels were depicted as horrifying creatures incomprehensible to humans in the bible and I thought "hey sounds like that'd be a cool concept" so I wrote it, but it's foil.
> 
> As I wrote this, I realized that there are so many ways to interpret the relationship and storylines associated with Vector and Yuuma as a God-Lucifer/angel-fallen angel story and I found it super neat. I'd loved to share all the different interpretations, but I'm sure I could incorporate them in future stories, so I'll wait on it.
> 
> Anyway, I hope that y'all enjoyed and know that I plan to write more about these two :p


End file.
